


Nights were mainly made for sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day

by Sparklyfairymira (myonetruelove)



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Relationships, Biting, Blow Jobs, Clarke Griffin & Raven Reyes are Best Friends, Confessions, Doctor Clarke Griffin, Drama, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fingerfucking, Flirting, Friends With Benefits, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Minor Character(s), Minor John Murphy/Raven Reyes, Modern Era, Oral Sex, Orgasm, POV Clarke Griffin, Porn, Porn with Feelings, Prompt Fill, Scratching, Sex, Smut, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-04
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:56:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,591
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27881857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myonetruelove/pseuds/Sparklyfairymira
Summary: Clarke meets Roan when he shows up at the ER for stitches. He flirts and she turns him down because she doesn't date patients. He still gives her his number and a few weeks later when she's horny she decides why the hell not and gives him a call.Or the one where Clarke catches feelings with her FWB Roan.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin/Roan
Comments: 6
Kudos: 58
Collections: The t100 Writers for BLM Initiative





	Nights were mainly made for sayin' things that you can't say tomorrow day

**Author's Note:**

  * For [MrsHouseWife](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MrsHouseWife/gifts).



> Here is a prompt fill for leahrose88 on Tumblr that I've been looking forward to for a long time. It's finally done and I'm so happy to share it. This was a prompt for t100 writers for BLM initiative and we are still taking prompts. Please check out [our carrd here](t100fic-for-blm.carrd.co) to see what we're all about. Is there a Christmas fic you'd love to read? A New Years' story you want to read? A song you KNOW needs to be made into a video? Or want a fic trailer done for your fic (because I'm getting quite good at those lol). If you want to donate, but don't know what to prompt we've got you covered there too.
> 
> If you're interested in seeing what else I'm writing and what my planned publication dates for that is, please check out my Tumblr post [HERE](https://sparklyfairymira.tumblr.com/post/632973715782729728/prompt-fic-updates). 
> 
> Title is from Artic Monkey's "Do I Wanna Know?" Thanks to Brooke for looking over this for me.

Clarke sighs as her pager goes off. She picks it up as she climbs from the bed. She only has two hours left on her twenty-four on-call shift. She’d been hoping for a nap because she’s exhausted, but there’s no rest for surgical residents—especially not on a Saturday night.

She makes her way to the ER, wondering what they’ll need from her this time. “Hey, Harper,” Clarke calls to the nurse on duty. “You paged?”

“Yeah, sorry.” Harper winces. “There’s a head lac in Bay three. Dr. Jackson is tied up in an emergency so we had to page you.” She offers Clarke a tablet. “The info is pulled up.”

“Thanks, Harper.” Clarke scrolls through the notes on the tablet before making her way to Bay three, pushing open the curtain. “Hello, Mr. Kingley. My name is Dr. Griffin.”   
  


The man lying in the bed turns his head, a compress pressed against his forehead. He smirks. “Oh, so they did listen when I asked for the hot doctor.”

Clarke forces herself to not respond, keeping her face neutral. This is something she unfortunately has to deal with regularly. “So your chart says that you were in a bar fight? How much have you had to drink tonight?”

“Nothing.” He shakes his head as he sits up. “And you can call me Roan.”

Clarke narrows her eyes. “So you were in a bar fight, but had zero alcohol in your system? We need to know so that we make sure that nothing interacts with anything you’ve taken. Any drugs then?”

Roan smirks. “Nope, perfectly sober.”

“So how does someone that is perfectly sober get into a bar fight?” Clarke asks as she steps over and lifts the compress to look at the wound. It’s a bleeder, but head wounds usually are. It doesn’t look too bad, but will definitely need stitches. “Okay, keep pressure on that. You’re definitely going to need stitches.”

“Oh, good. Women do like scars right?” Roan asks.

Clarke turns to gather what she needs, rolling her eyes. She just needs to not engage with his flirting—no matter how hot he is. He’s not what she usually looks for in a man with his long hair and build that suggests that he’s heavily muscled. But he’s definitely attractive. She can at the very least admit that to herself. There’s something about that smirk and the mischievous look in his eyes. “So, bar fight?”

Roan sighs. “I was defending someone’s honor.”

“Oh were you?” Clarke shakes her head as she moves the tray over to him. “Or do you just enjoy bar fights?”

“I don’t enjoy bar fights, no. But I also don’t enjoy men who put their hands on a woman that didn’t consent.” Roan raises his eyebrows.

Clarke quirks her head as she considers him. “Okay, that seems like a good reason to get into a bar fight.” She lifts the syringe so that he can see it. “I’m going to use this to numb the area before I start on the stitches, okay?”

Roan shrugs. “Sure.” He doesn’t flinch as she injects the numbing agent. “So I didn’t think that there were actually young, hot doctors. I thought it was a lie told to the population so they would look forward to going to the ER.”

“Wow.” Clarke glances down at him for a moment before looking back at his wound, pushing lightly to make sure that it’s numb. “You really can’t get a hint, can you?”

“And what hint would that be?” he asks.

“That I’m not interested.” Satisfied that the area is numb Clarke picks up the suture kit and gets to work on the stitches.

Roan scoffs. “Oh, you’re interesting. You just don’t want to admit it.”

This time Clarke doesn’t hold back her laughter as it rings through the room. “Full of yourself much?”

Roan grins. “Hey, I work hard on this body though I was born with my amazing personality.”

Clarke doesn’t respond as she continues to stitch the wound. Looks like it should only take about four stitches which isn’t bad. “So how exactly did you end up with a head wound?”

Roan frowns. “Bastard’s friend snuck up behind me and shoved my head into the corner of the bar.” He shrugs. “But it’s fine. I took care of him too.”

“Of course you did.” Clarke shakes her head. “Okay, stitches are done. It won’t leave much of a scar, sorry to disappoint. I see that the nurse went over the concussion checklist with you, but I need to go through it with you again before we can release you.”

“If it means more time looking at that pretty face of yours, I’m game.” Roan continues to grin at her.

Clarke doesn’t like how entertained she is by him. She shouldn’t find this kind of behavior attractive, but she does. She just can’t let him know that. “Okay, a lot of these I can already answer no to based on our conversation, but do you have a headache? Any nausea? Dizziness? Double vision?”

Roan shakes his head. “Nope.”

“Okay, just a few more questions.” Clarke moves through the checklist, quickly answering the questions that they’ve already covered. “Any sensitivity to light or sound?”

“I don’t have a concussion,” he tells her matter of factly.

Clarke raises her eyebrows. “Are you a doctor?”

“No, I used to be an MMA fighter. I’ve had a lot of concussions. I know the signs.” Roan shrugs. 

Of course, he was a fighter. “Not really fair to the other guy is it? If you used to be an MMA fighter?”

“Well, he shouldn’t have been putting his hands on my friend in my own bar.” Roan leans forward into her space. “Can I get your number?”

Clarke rolls her eyes as she takes a step back. “No, you can’t. I don’t date patients.” She glances at the tablet. “I think that you should be good to head home in just a bit. Or to your bar, I guess if that’s where you want to go, but I don’t recommend drinking.”

“When you own a bar you don’t usually drink there.” He grins at her. “Are you sure you can’t make an exception for me? I’m a nice guy, I promise.”

Clarke laughs. He’s entertaining, that’s for sure. “Anyone who says that they’re a nice guy usually isn’t.”

Roan considers her for a moment before nodding. “You’re probably right about that. Okay, well I’m a decent guy and I’d be very nice to you.”

Clarke sets down the tablet as her phone goes off. Who the hell is texting her at 3:00 in the morning? She pulls her phone out to check it. Ugh, it’s her mom. Whatever. She’ll deal with her when she’s done. She sets the phone down next to the tablet and starts cleaning up the room. “As soon as I’m done I’ll go out and finish up the paperwork. Nurse McIntyre will come in with your discharge papers.”

“Uh-huh,” Roan mutters as if he’s not paying attention which draws Clarke’s attention to him.

“Hey, give that back.” Clarke reaches for her phone which is currently messing with.

Roan holds it out of her reach. “In a minute. I’m putting my number in just in case you change your mind.” He winks as he hands her the phone back.

“Not going to happen.” She grabs the tablet as she shakes her head. “Have a good night, Mr. Kingsley and try not to get in any more fights.”

“Yeah, that’s not going to happen.” Roan laughs. “I’ll be waiting for your call.”

“You’ll be waiting a long time,” she calls over her shoulder as she pushes the curtain closed. She rolls her eyes again as she lets out a huff of air. He’s way too cocky for his own good, which is reason enough for her to never call him even if it weren’t for her rule that she doesn’t date patients.

Harper glances up, brow furrowed as she watches her. “You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. I love getting hit on at work twenty-two hours into a twenty-four shift.” Clarke laughs as she hands the tablet to Harper. “Mr. Kingsley is good to go. I’ve been summoned by my mother so I’d better head up to her office. Although who the hell knows why she’s ever here right now.”

“Oh, she got called in for emergency surgery. There was a really bad accident earlier.” Harper shoots her a smile. “She probably just got done.”

Clarke shrugs. “The life of a surgeon—so glamorous. With any luck, I can grab a nap after she’s done with me.”

“Good luck and if I don’t see you before you get off, have a good day off tomorrow,” Harper calls as she heads toward Roan.

Clarke steels herself as she heads to the elevators, not in the mood to deal with her mom but she knows that Abby will keep calling if she doesn’t go see her. Which would not do well for her plans to nap. Just as she steps on the elevator her pager goes off. Great.

She pulls out the pager, glancing at it before rolling her eyes. Abby is already paging her. Clarke pulls out her phone and texts her mom to let her know that she’s on her way up. This day can’t be over soon enough.

* * *

“I’m sorry, Clarke. I can stay if you want.” It’s very apparent that this is the exact opposite of what Raven wants to do, but Clarke appreciates the sentiment nonetheless.

Clarke shakes her head. “No, get out of here.” She glances over Raven’s shoulder to check out the guy she’s living with. “He’s cute.”

Raven laughs. “He is.” She leans over and leaves a smacking kiss on Clarke’s cheek. “Love you, babe!”

“Love you, too,” Clarke calls after Raven as she hurries off. She smiles to herself as she wonders if she should’ve told Raven that she knows the guy she’s going home with. Nah, she’ll tell her tomorrow. Hopefully before Raven starts spilling about the sex, because she’s known Murphy since they were kids and she really doesn’t want to hear about how he is in bed.

Clarke sighs as she pulls out her phone. She guesses that she could head home, but she doesn’t want to. It’s a Friday night and she’s actually off the next day—which only happens once every three weeks. Maybe there’s someone she can convince to come out with her? It’s not that late, it’s not even midnight yet. But she knows that Harper is at Monty’s tonight and Wells has an early morning thing with his dad. 

She bites her lip as she scrolls through her contacts, trying to figure out who she can call. Lexa is a big fat no—no matter how drunk and horny she is, she can’t go there again. Not that she’s drunk—just a little tipsy. Niylah? Maybe. It’s been a hot minute since they hooked up. She continues scrolling, stopping when she sees a name that she doesn’t recognize.

Who the hell is Roan? It takes a moment before recognition kicks in. The guy that she stitched up two weeks ago. Hmmm. Should she? She  _ had _ told him that she doesn’t date patients, but then again she isn’t looking for a date, now is she? Fuck it.

  


Clarke rolls her eyes. This is a terrible idea, but even knowing that she’s already typing.

  


Of course, he lives over the bar. Whatever, that’s not important since the bar will be closed. She taps her finger on the table as she considers her options.

  


Clarke shakes her head before downing the rest of her drink. She’ll have to get an Uber since Raven had chosen a bar on her side of town. What Clarke didn’t tell Roan is that his bar is within walking distance to her apartment and of course he knows it’s within walking distance of the hospital. 

At least she won’t have to get an Uber when she’s ready to go home. She orders a car which says it should be there in less than five minutes. Score. She grabs her purse and makes her way outside to wait, her body thrumming with anticipation. She hopes that Roan isn’t all talk—she’s been there before. But she doesn’t think so. She doesn’t know why, but she thinks tonight will be well worth her time.

* * *

Clarke leans her back against the bar, eyes taking in the rest of the room as she sips from her beer. Her eyes quickly land on Roan who is laughing with some guys at a table. It’s almost closing time and she cannot wait. Roan has spent any spare moment when he’s not serving drinks or chatting with customers flirting with her. 

She licks her lips as she watches the muscles bunch under his tight shirt as he helps a guy who has fallen to the floor. God, she can’t wait to get her hands on him. She is so fucking horny right now and having to wait around for over an hour isn’t helping. 

“Don’t worry, they’ll be gone soon,” Roan leans over to whisper in her ear, his hot breath tickling her ear and setting her ablaze. He trails his nose down her neck before biting slightly, soothing the spot with his tongue. When he pulls back there is a smirk firmly on his lips.

Clarke’s entire body is thrumming with desire. She takes a shaky breath as she watches Roan walk around the bar. She wonders what he would do if she were to jump him right here with the bar packed. She smiles at the image, shifting so that she can get at least a little friction where she needs it—even if all it does is key her up more. 

The bar is fairly packed, but people are already starting to make their way out. Thank goodness. Her eyes follow Roan as he makes his way from table to table, saying goodbye, and making sure that everyone that isn’t okay to drive has a way home. She chews on her lip as she considers him. He’s different than she thought—he’s more than just some cocky guy who gets into fights—he actually cares. Shouldn’t matter to her since this is just a hook-up. A hook-up that she said wasn’t going to happen and yet here she is.

It’s not long until Roan is locking the door behind the last customer and Clarke is already moving off her stool and toward him. She knows that his other employees are gone—it’s why he has to close the bar—so she isn’t worried about anyone walking in on them and she doesn’t want to wait any longer.

When Roan turns around she’s already reaching up, arms wrapping around his neck to bring him down for a kiss—and what a kiss. They don’t start off softly or quietly, but with a bang. Roan’s hands slide down to cup her ass before boosting her up. Clarke wraps her legs around his waist, letting out a moan as their tongues touch.

She feels like she’s on fire, her entire body alight with desire. Roan breaks their kiss and before she can complain his lips are moving down to her neck as he starts walking across the bar. He stops, setting her down on the top of the bar.

Roan’s hands move under her shirt, lifting it quickly and breaking away from her just long enough to remove it. He throws it and it goes flying to parts unknown. His mouth trails down her chest, tongue tracing the skin revealed by her bra. 

Clarke needs it off and she needs it off now. She needs his mouth, his hands on her breasts. But when she reaches back to unsnap it, he stops her.

“Not yet.” Roan shakes his head, desire written all over his face. He turns her and leans her back until she’s lying on the bar. 

She knows that this isn’t sanitary, but she also doesn’t give a flying fuck as his hands find the button of her jeans, flicking it open with ease. He’s fucking teasing her, sliding the zipper down at an excruciatingly slow pace. 

A whine spills from her lips before she can stop it as their eyes meet. She needs more and she needs it now. Roan smirks at her, but he does slide her pants down to her knees before yanking her forward on the bar. 

He pushes aside her underwear, running a finger over her center as his eyes fall shut. “So fucking wet for me. Have you been thinking about this since you got here?”

Clarke’s hips cant, trying to tell him she needs more without using words as she lets out a whine. “Since before I got here.”

“Well, then I guess you deserve a prize for your patience.” He gathers her wetness before sliding a finger into her. Clarke lets out a moan as he slides a second finger into her. He moves his fingers in and out of her at much too slow of a pace, but Clarke is already at a loss for words. On the next thrust, Roan crooks his fingers and hits just the right spot that sends a keening sound from Clarke’s lips.

“Yes, please. More.” Clarke wants to tell him to go faster—to be rougher, but she can’t find the words as moans spill from her lips. 

Roan shoots her grin before leaning down, mouth close enough to her center that she can feel his breath against her. “You smell amazing.” His tongue flicks across her clit a few times before he sucks it into his mouth.

Clarke’s back arches off of the bar, eyes falling shut as she loses herself in the sensation. “Faster. Please, Roan-” she breaks off on another moan when his next thrust is not only faster but harder. “Gods, yes.”

This new pace has her spiraling toward orgasm in no time. It’s Roan’s deep, rumbly voice that sends her over the edge. “Come for me, angel. I look so hot right now. I bet when you come you’ll be the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

“Oh, fuck,” Clarke keens as she comes, back arching off of the bar as she explodes. Roan slows his thrusts, working her through her orgasm but moving off of her clit. Clarke pants as she settles. That was one of the best orgasms she’s ever had—not that she’s going to tell him that. He’s already too fucking cocky as it is.

Roan slides his fingers from her, bringing them to his mouth and sucking them clean. Clarke’s mouth drops open as she lets out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. Holy shit. 

“That is so fucking hot,” spills from her lips without her permission.

Roan pulls his fingers from his mouth with a pop. “As are you, angel. And damn you taste good.”

Suddenly Roan is lifting Clarke in his arms bridal style as his lips crash down on hers. She tastes herself on his lips and while she didn’t think it was possible, she’s even more turned on. She needs him inside her. 

Roan carries her up the stairs effortlessly, pushing open a door at the top of the stairs before setting her down. He drops to his knees, pulling at her shoes. Clarke does her best to help him as he removes her shoes and then her pants. Once they’re off he’s standing again, his shoes already flying across the room. 

Clarke pushes her hands under his shirt, roaming the skin beneath it before pushing the shirt up. Roan pulls it over his head and then his lips are on hers again. She reaches between them to pop the button on his jeans, yanking down the zipper and then shoving them down his hips. He shimmies out of them before reaching back and unsnapping her bra. 

As her breasts fall free from their constraint all Clarke can think is  _ finally _ . He slides the bra down her arms before tossing it to the side. Then his hands are cupping her ass again, lifting her so that her legs wrap around him. He spins them around until her back hit the door and his mouth finds it’s way down to her nipple.

Clarke’s head falls back as she wiggles her hips, trying to slide down his torso. He seems to get the idea and helps her move down until she can grind against his cock. “Holy shit,” she whispers as her center brushes against him. He’s fucking big—she’s not a size queen by any means, but damn. She moves against him, drenching his boxer briefs as he moves to take her other nipple into his mouth.

“Bed,” Clarke pants out. It’s not that she’s not enjoying herself, but she wants him inside of her like ten minutes ago. If his oral skills are anything to go off of the sex is going to be amazing and she just needs to get fucked.

Roan laughs against her breast. “Your wish is my command.” And then he’s pulling her back up his body so that she can lock her legs around his waist once more as he makes his way further into the apartment.

Clarke takes a moment to take a look around, finding that he lives in a studio, everything all in one room, but it’s not small. She can’t see the bed since that’s where he’s carrying her, but as he drops her onto it she sinks in and it feels like clouds. 

Her mind is pulled from his apartment as he climbs onto the bed, caging her in as he leans down, lips catching hers once again. He seems to once again want to take her time, but she’s not having any of that. Her hands move down his rock hard abs— _ damn _ —and starts to tug his boxer briefs over his hips. 

Roan breaks the kiss, laughing. “You are very impatient, angel.” But he pulls the underwear down his hips and drops them on the floor.

Clarke’s jaw drops—she doesn’t mean for it too, but damn does he look good naked. Her eyes roam his body and she knows that he’s aware of what she’s doing because why else would he continue to stand there. Finally, her eyes meet his and of course, he’s smirking. But now she understands why he’s so damn cocky.

Clarke grins, pulling down her own underwear and tossing them toward the living area—she’s going to have a hell of a time finding her clothes later, but right now she doesn’t care. She moves back further onto the bed before crooking a finger at Roan.

Roan moves quickly, on her in a moment. Their lips crash together as Clarke’s hands move to his back, nails digging in. Roan’s hand moves down her body and between them, grasping his cock in his hand. 

Clarke breaks the kiss to watch him stroke himself a few times. What she wouldn’t give to get her mouth on him—to try and take all of him in her mouth and down her throat. But she is much too impatient. 

He lines up with her center and then he’s pushing into her. Clarke lets out a loud moan as he pushes in slowly until he’s fully seated inside of her. She bites her lip as she looks up at him from under her eyelashes. “Fuck me.”

He needs no further urging as his hands land on her hips as he pulls out before thrusting back into her. She’s thankful that he’s not being gentle with her. She doesn’t know if it’s because of her reaction to being handled roughly earlier or if it’s just the way he likes to fuck, but it’s exactly what she needs. 

Clarke’s nails dig into his back as he continues, thrusts so hard that he’s knocking the headboard into the wall. She snakes a hand between them, circling her clit. She’s already so close, but she needs just a little something more. 

Roan leans down, biting at her neck as he thrusts just right to hit her g-spot and she’s spiraling. Roan laps at the bite as his thrust slow just a little as he works her through the orgasm. When she collapses back on the bed spent he lifts her hips and thrusts back into her. He pounds into her, not being gentle and Clarke loves the sensation. 

“You are so fucking hot, angel. Watching you come is life-changing,” he pants out. Clarke can see his muscles straining and assumes he’s close. She clasps her hands on his arms, nails digging in. 

Roan lets out a hiss, but then his head falls back as he thrusts into her one more time and she feels his come fill her. She’s glad they talked about safe sex  _ before _ now seeing as he hadn’t used a condom, but this is why she always makes sure to have the conversation before sex because once you start you don’t always remember. 

Roan pulls out of her and collapses onto the bed, pulling her against him. Clarke lets her eyes fall shut for just a minute. He’s warm and she’s feeling way too blissed out to leave. Five minutes and then she’ll hit the bathroom and find her closes. Or at least that’s what she tells herself as she feels herself start to drift off.

* * *

Clarke wakes up the next morning, confused by the heavy weight pinning her in place. She blinks away the sleep, looking around. She’s definitely not at home. It takes her a minute to recall the previous night and realize that the arm pinning her is Roan’s. Last night had been amazing, but she hadn’t meant to stay the night. Staying the night confuses the situation for being something more than what it is—a one night stand.

She starts to try to wiggle out of his hold, hoping she can sneak out without waking him up. When his arm tightens around her she knows she’s lost any hope of that.

“Where are you going?” Roan’s voice is raspy in her ear.

“Home.” She pats his arm, hoping that he will get the hint—if he does, he ignores it as he pulls her tighter against him.

Roan chuckles, lips grazing her ear. “And why would you be doing that?”

Clarke bites her lip to keep herself from moaning. As much as she would love to go another round, that’s not how one night stands work. “Look, this was a one-time thing and I shouldn’t have stayed over. It confuses things.”

“Oh, I’m not confused, Clarke.” Roan laughs again and she can feel the rumblings where his chest is pressed against her back. “I just had fun last night and I’d like to have more. But if you want to go home, no worries.” He releases his hold on her and rolls over.

Clarke immediately misses his warmth which makes her more set on leaving. The rules aren’t just for the guy, but for herself as well. She doesn’t need to confuse herself. She needs this to be clear cut. It was a one-time thing. 

Roan climbs out of the bed, uncaring that he is both naked and half-hard. He moves toward the kitchen calling behind him, “I’m making breakfast if you want to stay.”

Clarke stares after him, dumbfounded. Is he going to cook breakfast naked? Who does that? She runs her hand down her face. What the hell has she gotten herself into? She needs to go the hell home. She climbs out of the bed, looking around for her clothes. Shit. They started taking their clothes off in the bar, didn’t they? 

“Can I borrow a shirt while I look for my clothes?” Clarke calls as she walks around the bed, but her clothes are nowhere to be found.

“Sure, the second drawer down in the tall dresser.”

Clarke walks over opens the drawer, opens it, and pulls out a shirt at random. She pulls it over her head and shakes her head at how big it is on her. She heads out to the main living area and gets an eye full of Roan’s ass as he’s bent over, looking into a cabinet. Heat rushes through her again. The man is unfairly hot—she swears every part of him is muscled. 

It takes her a moment to convince her feet to keep moving as she just gapes at Roan as he moved around the kitchen, giving zero fucks about the fact that he’s naked. He glances up at her and smirks as if he knows exactly what is going through her mind. Damn it. She forces herself to start moving again as she tears her eyes away from him. He is  _ not _ making this easy.

Clarke keeps her eyes on the floor as she searches for her clothes. She scrambles over as she sees her bra, picking it up quickly. She keeps moving and there are her shoes and pants just inside the door. She throws open the door and sees her shirt at the bottom of the stairs. She hurries down to grab it, scanning the floor of the bar, but there aren’t any other clothes there.

Where the fuck are her underwear? She shakes her head as she makes her way up the stairs. She scans the floor once she’s back inside his apartment, but she still doesn’t see them. What the hell?

“What’s wrong? Can’t find something?” Roan’s voice is teasing.

Clarke narrows her eyes as she turns to face him. “Why do I get the feeling that you already know the answer to that?”

Roan shrugs. “Because you’re suspicious by nature?” He cracks an egg into a pan. “What I can tell you is that you have two choices—you can go home without them and be very uncomfortable or you can stay and have breakfast and be more comfortable.”

“Let me make sure I have this right.” Clarke stalks over to the counter that separates them. “You’re blackmailing me with my underwear to make me stay and have breakfast with you?”

“I mean, that’s not how I’d put it, but if that’s how you want to view it then sure.” Roan glances up at her for a moment, smirk firmly in place.

He is so fucking cocky. It makes Clarke so angry, but it also turns her on—she needs therapy. She considers him, biting her lip. She would really rather not have to go home in jeans with no underwear. He’s right about that—it will not be comfortable. On the other hand, her staying for breakfast would be confusing the idea that it’s a one night stand. Fuck it, she’s hungry and she doesn’t want to have to walk home with no underwear. 

“Fine, but this doesn’t change anything.” Clarke shakes her head, pulling out a stool to sit at the corner to watch him fix breakfast. If he’s going to do it naked then she might as well watch. 

Roan laughs. “See I knew you were a reasonable woman.” He shoots her a wink before turning back to the stove.

Clarke takes the time to check him out. She’d done it last night while he was clothed, but naked is so much better. Damn, this man’s body. She finds herself considering going another round with him after breakfast. She’s already here and the sex is amazing. She shakes her head. Nope, this is how things get confusing.

They talk a little while Roan finishes breakfast, but nothing too deep—again, Clarke wants to keep the line as clear as she can, especially with how blurry it’s already getting. And if she keeps her eyes on him the whole time, who can really blame her? 

“Your breakfast madame,” Roan says as he sets a plate of eggs and pancakes in front of her with a flourish.

Clarke rolls her eyes, taking the offered fork. She pours syrup on her pancakes and starts to cut into them when she realizes he’s standing there eating naked. “So do you have an aversion to clothes?”

“Do you have an aversion to me being naked?” he shoots back.

Clarke closes her eyes, fighting back a sigh. He can’t make this easy, can he? “No, Roan. We both know that you’re hot and that your body is a piece of art. But we’re not sleeping together again. I’m going to eat my food, get my underwear, and go home. So if that’s what you’re hoping for by remaining naked then you’re wasting your time.”

“Maybe.” Roan shrugs. “But I just really like being naked. It feels natural.”

“You sound like a hippy,” Clarke bites out, focusing on her food. She shoves it into her mouth and it’s fucking delicious, but she doesn’t take time to savor it. She just needs to finish as quickly as possible and get the hell out of here before she does something stupid—like jump him. Which is becoming more and more of a possibility the longer she’s here.

It’s fucking stupid. Why is she like this? She knows how sleeping with someone can become something more—she’s been there before. She doesn’t want this to become that. He’s not the kind of guy she wants to end up with long term so why waste both their times? But why did the sex have to be so good? That’s what’s making it hard. If the sex sucked or was even mediocre she wouldn’t have to be dealing with this dilemma right now.

“Well, then maybe I’m a hippy.” Roan’s voice is much closer than it had been a moment again which causes Clarke to freeze. He reaches out, pushing the hair from her shoulder, baring her neck to him. He leans over, nose grazing her pulse point before he kisses it lightly.

Clarke sucks in a breath as her body begins to thrum. She wants him so bad it’s not funny. You know what? Fuck it. She’s already made the mistake of reaching out to him once, why not enjoy another round? She drops her fork and spins on the stool, wrapping her legs around him to pull him firmly against her. Her arms loop around his neck as she leads his head down to hers for a kiss.

Yes. This is what she wanted. She moans into the kiss as his cock brushes against her soaked center. He’s no longer half-hard, but there is something she wants to do and he’s not going to distract her from doing it. 

Clarke pushes him away before dropping to her knees in front of him. She takes his cock into her hand, stroking him to learn the feel of it. She moves closer, licking the head. She glances up at him as she moves her mouth over his head, lowering just a bit before coming back off. This is going to require some work, but she’s willing to put in the effort. Oh, yes she is.

She slides him back into her mouth, twisting her hand at the base of his cock as she continues to stroke. She moves up and down his cock, taking more of him with each pass until he hits the back of her throat and then she pulls off completely.

Clarke grins up at him innocently as she bats her eyes. Roan’s eyes narrow as he gazes down at her. She waits a beat before pulling his shirt over her head and tossing it to the side. She tilts her head as his attention immediately falls to her naked breasts. 

She runs her hands up from her stomach, grazing the outside of her breasts before running her hands back down her body. She pauses when her hands reach her nipples, rolling them between her fingers before her hands continue their path down her body. 

As her hand slips between her legs she takes his cock into her mouth again, sliding down until he hits the back of her throat. But this time she doesn’t stop, continuing to take more of him into her mouth until he slides down her throat. She fights her gag reflex as she pushes on until she can’t take anymore. Sadly, she can’t take his whole cock, but she’s proud of what she has accomplished. 

She slides a finger into her heat as she pulls back, her hand sliding up the inside of his leg. She moves across his thigh as she moans, her tongue flattening along the bottom of his cock. When her hand lands on his hip, she jerks his hips forward so that he fucks into her mouth. 

Roan’s fingers tangle in her hair. “Do you want me to fuck your mouth, angel?”

Clarke moans again, mouth too full to speak and Roan obviously takes this as an agreement as he begins to fuck into her mouth. Her throat burns and her scalp tingles where he pulls her hair, but it’s the best kind of pain. 

Roan’s head falls back as his eyes close, a groan slipping from his lips. He thrusts into her mouth, gentler than he’d fucked her last night for which she is grateful. She begins to fuck herself on her fingers in time to his thrusts, moaning around him.

“That’s right angel, fuck yourself. You are so hot,” Roan moans. 

Clarke looks up at him and their eyes meet. His eyes are filled with naked hunger and she begins to ride her fingers as she feels her orgasm building. She brings her other hand to her breast, pinching her nipple. She’s almost there.

On Roan’s next thrust Clarke slams down on her fingers as she breaks, orgasm rushing through her body. Her whole body shakes as her eyes roll into the back of her head.  _ Fuck. _

As Clarke’s body goes lax Roan pulls his cock from her mouth. Suddenly she’s in the air, being lifted under her arms, and then her ass hits the cold marble of the counter. She lets out a small hiss that is quickly swallowed up by Roan as he kisses her.

Roan yanks her hips forward so she is balanced precariously on the edge and then he’s pushing into her. Clarke’s head drops to his shoulder as she moans. There’s nothing gentle about his current thrusts. Now they’re fast and deep—rough, just the way she likes it. 

Clarke can tell that he’s holding back his orgasm by the strain in his arms as they grip her hips. She leans as close as she can to his ear and whispers, “Come for me.”

“Fuck, angel,” Roan mutters as he thrusts into her again, shaking as he comes. 

Clarke wraps her arms around Roan’s shoulders as he collapses against her, head on her shoulder. She can feel his cock jerking inside her and she’s still so keyed up that she realizes she can come again. 

She reaches between them, fingers on her clit in fast, efficient circles. It doesn’t take more than a few passes of her fingers and she’s coming again, spasming around his cock as her head falls forward to land on his shoulder.

They sit like this for a few moments before Roan pulls out of her, drawing a low moan from both of them. She just watches him for a few moments—he’s so fucking sexy. But this was the last time. “This is still a one-time thing.”

“I understand, angel.” Roan smirks at her. “You’re the boss. Whatever you say goes.”

Clarke shakes her head as she looks down at him from her perch on the counter. “My underwear?”

“What a one-track mind you have.” Roan shakes his head as he pulls her from the counter, setting her on her feet before he makes his way over to the couch.

“You seriously shoved my underwear in the couch?” Clarke rolls her eyes as she takes the offered underwear. “You know what? It doesn’t matter.” She grabs the rest of her clothes and makes her way to the bathroom. 

Once inside she dresses quickly, annoyed with herself. So many mistakes with this one. She never should’ve texted him—though she really can’t bring herself to regret that once since the sex had been  _ amazing _ . But then staying the night, staying for breakfast, and then having sex with him again? It just sends the wrong message. It’s fine. She’s made it clear that this is only a one-time thing. 

She washes her hands, glancing at herself in the mirror. She looks well fucked, which she will admit that she is. And it’s a look that she likes on herself. She shakes her head as she shuts off the water, reminding herself that it doesn’t matter how good the sex is—she doesn’t have time for anything more than a one-time hookup.

Clarke makes her way out of the bathroom to find Roan lounging on the couch wearing a pair of shorts. “So you do wear clothes?”

“Of course I wear clothes.” Roan glances over at her. “I just prefer not to when I have beautiful women over. I prefer that we both remain unclothed.”

Clarke rolls her eyes. “Well, I’m going home. So thanks for last night.”

Roan chuckles. “Oh, trust me, it was my pleasure.” He pauses. “I know that you keep saying it’s a one-time thing, but let me know if you change your mind.”

“Not going to happen,” Clarke calls over her shoulder as she heads for the door. Because it can’t happen—that’s all there is to it.

* * *

Clarke doesn’t know why she’s here—that’s a lie. She knows exactly why she’s here. She just doesn’t want to admit it to herself. When Clarke woke up to a text from Raven asking if she wanted to go out that night with her and Murphy—who had apparently hit it off and were now dating—Clarke hadn’t hesitated as she texted her back, asking if she’d like to check out Ice Nation. 

Since it’s so close to her apartment Raven came over to get ready with her, Murphy picking them both up on his way to the bar. Clarke had laughed at the shock on Murphy’s face when she’d answered the door and then she’d gleefully explained to them both that she’d known who Raven was going home with three weeks ago. 

Which is how they’ve ended up here at Roan’s bar just three weeks after the last time she’d been here. What was she thinking? It was supposed to only be a one-time thing, but if she’s honest with herself she hasn’t been able to get him off her mind. They find a table that’s not too close to the bar and wait for the waitress—not one of the girls that had been here three weeks before, thankfully—to bring them their drinks. Clarke’s eyes scan the bar, but she doesn’t see Roan.

“Looking for something in particular?” Raven asks her, eyebrow raised.

“Uh...no...I…” Clarke stutters. “I mean, of course not. I’m just checking the place out.”

“Oh, so we’re not at some new random bar that we’ve never been to before because there’s a hot guy you want to check out?” Raven asks, shooting her a knowing look.

Clarke narrows her eyes, crossing her arms over her chest. She does not appreciate the call out. “Of course not. What would make you think that?”

Raven laughs, nodding her head toward the back of the bar. “Because someone has had their eyes on you since we walked in and it doesn’t look like it’s just some guy that’s never seen you before.”

Clarke forces herself to not turn to look in the direction Raven has indicated. She does not doubt that it’s Roan—who the hell else could it be—but she refuses to admit this to Raven. She shrugs. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Like hell you don’t.” Raven reaches over, turning Clarke’s head and her eyes immediately lock with Roan’s. “Yeah, that’s what I thought. You didn’t have to lie about it, you know?”

Clarke can’t answer. She can’t look away from Roan’s hungry eyes. This was a terrible idea, but damn she wants him so badly. Her eyes widen as he says something to the people in the booth before he’s striding toward her. Well, shit. Clarke wants to look away but she can’t.

“Looks like we’re about to have a visitor,” Murphy snarks. “He’s pretty hot. I can see why you’d want to hit that.”

“I never said-” Clarke is cut off by Roan’s arrival to their booth.

Roan smirks down at her. “I see you couldn’t stay away.”

Now Clarke’s back is up. Smug, arrogant bastard. “You own a bar. My friends and I wanted to go to a bar. It has nothing to do with you.”

Raven laughs. “Don’t lie to the man, Clarke.” She holds her hand out to Roan. “Raven Reyes, Clarke’s best friend.”

“Roan Kingley, owner of this fine establishment.” Roan shakes her hand before turning to face Murphy. 

“Murphy.” Murphy doesn’t offer his hand, instead lifting his beer in greeting.

Roan nods. “Well, it’s nice to meet Clarke’s friends.” He turns back to face her. “I told you that you’d be back.”

  
  


Clarke bites back her initial response because it would probably sound more like an invitation than an insult. “We can always leave?” 

“We’ll do no such thing,” Raven cuts in. “Move over and let Roan sit with us. So how do you know Clarke?”

Clarke does not want to move over, but she does so anyway because it would be rude not to. But she also glares at Raven the whole time. Raven, who is looking gleefully at Roan—which Clarke does not approve of. This is a terrible idea. Why did she think coming here would be a good idea? She settles back into the booth, trying her best to ignore Roan’s presence beside her.

“Oh, Dr. Griffin here stitched me up after some assholes decided to shove my head into the corner of the bar while I was letting his friend know just how much I did not appreciate the fact that he couldn’t keep his hands to himself or understand the word no.” Roan shrugs before leaning back, arm going across the back of the booth and behind Clarke’s head. 

“Sounds like something I would do,” Murphy nods. 

Raven laughs. “The sneaking up behind someone? Yeah, that sounds like you.”

“Don’t be an asshole, Raven.” Murphy shoves her into the side of the booth. 

Raven just continues to laugh. “Clarke doesn’t usually hang out with patients. You must be special.”

“You know, she told me the same thing.” Clarke can tell he’s looking at her now and she’s sure he’s smirking again—because it’s what he does. “But yet she ended up at my bar three weeks ago so I figure she must like me. Especially since she’s back again.”

“Look, us being here has nothing to do with you.” Clarke spins in her seat to face him—a mistake because she did not realize just how close he was. Now all she can do is stare at his lips which is making it a lot harder to concentrate on what she’s trying to say. “I wanted a bar close to my place. Since I’d been here the last time I went out it’s what came to my mind. Simple as that.”

Roan continues to smirk at her and she can’t look away. Raven is going to give her so much shit over this. “I don’t believe you.” And then he has the audacity to wink at her.

“I don’t either,” Murphy says and Clarke knows without looking that he’s also smirking. That’s it. He’s dead to her.

Raven laughs. “You know what? Me neither.”

Fuck it. They’re all dead to her. “Well, then maybe I should just go home then?”

“And take home tall and sexy with you? That sounds like a great idea,” Raven supplies. 

When Clarke turns to glare at Raven she finds the other woman looking at her innocently. “We’re no longer friends.”

“Hey, look here.” Raven holds up her hands in surrender. “I’m just trying to make sure you get laid. Don’t hate on me.”

Roan leans over close to her ear. “Looks like your friend and I have the same idea.”

“You know what? I’m going home.” Clarke shoves Roan until he gets the hint and slides out of the booth. He steps off to the side as she waves at Raven before turning to him. “Are you coming?”

Roan just nods and she ignores the cheers from Raven and Murphy that follow her. They’re right. She did come here for Roan and there’s no point in tip-toeing around it, but she’s also not going to stay there and listen to Raven all night. 

They walk back to her apartment silently, but it’s not nearly as uncomfortable as she would have thought it would be. It’s less than a ten-minute walk and soon they’re making their way into her building. She lives on the top floor so she leads him onto the elevator. As soon as the doors shut Roan is on her, hands grasping her hips and mouth needy. He hikes one of her legs up and over his hip as he grinds against her center.

If Clarke’s honest with herself she’s been wet ever since she spotted him at the bar. She knows this is a terrible idea. It was supposed to be just the once, but she can’t get him off his mind.

The elevator dings causing the pair to jump apart—luckily there is no one waiting for the elevator. Clarke grabs his hand and drags him down the hallway. She drops his hand to unlock the door and pushes open the door.

Roan moves so quickly she misses him moving as he pushes her inside, slamming the door shut and pressing her against it. He pushes up her skirt and it’s time that Clarke finally admits that she planned for this to happen. 

“No panties, angel?” Roan laughs as his lips make their way down to her neck where he begins biting, sucking, and licking at her pulse point. “Tell me again how you didn’t plan this?”

“Fine,” Clarke moans. “I wanted you to fuck me again. Now, will you shut up and do that, please?”

Roan chuckles again. “Well since you asked so nicely.” Roan’s fingers find her center, spreading her wetness to her thighs. “Do you want my mouth on you?”

“Not now. I can’t wait,” Clarke pants as she grasps at his shirt before yanking it over his head. “I need your cock.” Clarke’s hand slides down his abs and she begins to undo his pants.

Roan pulls away long enough to kick off his shoes and remove his pants and underwear. Then he’s back on her, pulling her shirt over her head. He lifts her with ease, back pressed to the door once again as he slides into her.

They moan in tandem as he pushes into her. Before he’s even fully seated Clarke’s hips are moving on their own accord. She’s so keyed up right now it’s not going to take much for her to fall over the edge.

Roan’s hands dig into her hips as he pulls back before pushing into her again. He seems to recall that she likes it hard and fast as he slams into her hard enough to shake the door. Clarke’s head falls back with a thud as he continues to fuck in and out of her. 

And she wasn’t wrong. She’s coming within minutes, Roan fucking her through her orgasm. He continues to fuck her against the door through her second and third orgasms. She’s so far gone at that point that she can’t even move her arms. Luckily, Roan comes within seconds of her last orgasm. 

His body pins her against the door as he catches his breath. Finally, he pulls back to kiss her. “Let me guess? Time for me to get the hell out?”

Clarke considers him for a moment before shaking his head. “No, the night is still young. Why don’t we hang out for a bit and then round two?”

“Hell yes, angel.” Roan’s mouth moves over hers as he slides out of her. 

Yes, this is a terrible idea and Clarke knows it—she just doesn’t give a fuck.

* * *

And no matter how many times Clarke tells herself it’s the last time—it keeps happening. At first, it’s just every three weeks when she has off Friday and Saturday, but then it starts happening once a week. And then any day that she’s off. She doesn’t know how it got this out of control. She never meant for it to be more than a one-time thing, but she can’t deny that the sex is out of the world. But she’s afraid that there might be more to it which isn’t what she wants. And even if a small part of her wants it, she knows she can’t have it.

Clarke sighs as she tosses and turns on the bed. She can’t turn her mind off, which isn’t something she usually has a problem with. It’s the middle of the night, nearing the end of one of her twenty-four-hour shifts which means she should be sleeping while she can and yet here she is wide awake.

“Fuck,” she mutters as she hears her pager go off. Not that it matters, it’s not like she is sleeping anyway. She rolls over and grabs it before heading to the door. She wonders what mess she will be cleaning up now. 

She skips the elevator, hoping that taking the stairs will help her wake up. She does feel a bit more awake as she hits the door to the first floor, swinging toward the ER. “Hey, Harper,” she calls. “What do we have?”

“Oh, uh, Clarke. I told them not to page you.” Harper’s eyes are wide.

Clarke frowns. “Why not?”

“Because it’s Roan,” Harper says quietly as she lays a hand on Clarke’s arm. “And it’s bad.”

Clarke can’t breathe. “Where is he?” She panicking and she knows it, but she can’t seem to stop herself. What could be wrong with him? He’s supposed to be at the bar—nothing bad should happen there, right? Then she remembers how they met. “Harper!”

“He’s in bay four. We’ve already paged another resident.” Harper grabs at Clarke as she starts to rush away. “You can’t be his doctor, Clarke.”

“I know that!” Clarke jerks out of Harper’s grasp and pushes aside the curtain, gasping at the sight before her. Roan’s face is bloodied and bruised almost beyond recognition. “Roan?” she whispers.

Roan’s head turns toward her and he tries to smile, but he lets out a groan. “I’m okay,” he says quietly.

“You most definitely are not.” Clarke rushes over, shaking her head as she tries to fight the tears. “What the hell happened?”

“I’m not sure. I was taking the trash out and got jumped.” Roan tries to sit up, but he lets out another groan as he grabs his side. “Sorry...they got me pretty good. There were like five of them.”

Clarke pushes him back so that he’s lying flat again. “Do not get up. We don’t know how badly you’re injured.” She shoves up his shirt up and winces at the bruises that are already blossoming. “You idiot.”

“Like it was my fault I got jumped?” Roan laughs but cuts off with a grain of pain.

“Well, if you wouldn’t beat up people in your bar when they do things you don’t like,” Clarke shrieks knowing that’s not why she’s actually upset, but she can’t help herself. “You can’t keep putting yourself in these kinds of situations, you idiot!”

Roan frowns, tilting his head as he watches her. “Seriously, Clarke?”

“You could be dead!” Clarke yells as she steps away from him, hands flying around as she talks. “And then what the hell would I do?”

“What are you talking about?” Roan looks confused.

“I’m in love with you, you moron!” Tears are running down Clarke’s cheeks and she doesn’t know when she started crying. She stops suddenly when she realizes what has just spilled from her lips. She’d been denying her feelings to herself, but she knows that the words were true—she just hadn’t meant to say them out loud. 

Roan stares at her blankly for a moment before he struggles off the bed, moving toward her. He takes her into his arms and smiles, though she can tell that he’s in pain. “I love you, too, Clarke.” And then his lips are on hers. 

The sound of someone clearing their throat pulls them apart and Clarke turns to see Dr. Jackson standing there, eyes averted. “You must be Mr. Kingley?”

Clarke steps back. “He is. I’m uh...just going to head out.”

Roan reaches out and grabs her hand. “Stay, please.”

“Okay.” Clarke squeezes his hand, shooting him a smile before stepping to the side to get out of the way so that Dr. Jackson can take care of him. This isn’t what she expected to happen, but she can’t find it in her to care. She loves him and he loves her, they’ll work out the rest.


End file.
